WAIT! YOU CAN SEE ME!
by BabyFox08
Summary: When Kennet Hollands is diagnosed with Schizophrenia, her entire world comes crashing down. She doesn't know what's real and what isn't or who she can trust. On top if it all, she's starting her freshman year of high school, Weirdest of all, she keeps seeing the same boy with white hair and blue eyes. Can Jack Frost help her through this tough time or will she try to ignore him?
1. Diagnosed

A/N: I have been thinking about writing this story for a long time and finally was able to convince myself to do it. I in no way want to be offensive to anyone with Schizophrenia. One of my best friends has Schizophrenia and is perfectly normal. I am in no way making generalizations towards people with Schizophrenia and their ways of coping with it. This is one character's perspective of what is happening. Once again I do not mean to be offensive in any way, shape, or form. Please enjoy. Also, if you have a case of Arachnophobia, there is quite a graphic scene involving spiders at the beginning of the first chapter. I suggest you skip that part if you have Arachnophobia. Thank You:)

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Disclaimer: I do not own Jack Frost.

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It started out small and it started out with spiders. At first it was just one or two that would run across my ceiling and hover directly over my bed. Now I'd never had true arachnophobia but that isn't to say they didn't creep me out. I tried to ignore them and fall asleep but I found myself incapable of the least bit of shut eye. Images of the furry eight legged creatures running all over me and biting me in my sleep haunted my imagination. After a while I got over my inability to kill the spiders and started trying to swish them with wads of toilet paper, old shoes, and brooms and mops. But whenever I was positive I had smeared its guts all over the ceiling, I would pull back whatever object of mass destruction in my hand and realize there was nothing. It was as if the creature disappeared from sight. I dismissed this as lack of sleep and tried to ignore whatever could be lurking above me.  
One night, however, it all changed. As usual, I was trying to fall asleep and avoid staring at the ceiling. If I didn't see them I could at least have a slight chance of sleep. I accidently misdirected the light on my phone and spotted something in the corner of my bedroom. I flickered on the light switch from my tall lamp and stared in absolutely horror at the corner of my room. There, wedged up near my bed was a giant white, sticky egg sack. I stifled a scream and leaped from my bed, as far away from the spider sack as possible. I was sure that hadn't been there before, it couldn't have been. I would have seen it. I know I would have.  
Light tears fell from my eyes as I realized I could eliminate any bit of hope I had of getting sleep. One spider was frightening enough; a whole egg sack was my biggest nightmare. I looked back at the sticky substance occupying my corner and let out a blood curdling scream. The sack had split open and a million baby spiders were crawling over my entire wall and ceiling, coming closer and closer to me. I jumped up on top of the chest in my bedroom and let out another piercing scream.  
My parents burst through the doors, yelling my name. I couldn't respond, couldn't form the words I needed to. I pointed at the floor where at least a hundred black spiders were crawling towards my feet. My parents looked at my screaming terrified form with a concerned expression. They weren't doing anything to help at all. Finally I found my words. "Do you not see them?" I screamed, pointing at the broken egg sack. "They're everywhere! The spiders," I exclaimed. My mother walked over to me, emerging her feet in the sea of spiders. I screamed again. She reached me and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Honey there are no spiders," she stated.  
I looked into my mother's concerned eyes and felt a biting rage. She was lying to me! The spiders where everywhere! They were crawling up her legs for God sake! How could she not see that? "No! You're wrong, they're everywhere," I cried out. My father walked through the spiders himself, picked me up, and carried my thrashing screaming body out of my bedroom. He sat me on the couch down stairs, tears still flowing from my eyes. My mother held my hand and placed a cool cloth on my head. I didn't want her care. She lied to me! I just wanted all the spiders to go away. My dad came back with a glass of water and a pink and white pill I didn't recognize. I eyed the pill skeptically. My instincts told me not to trust it. "It will help you calm down," my dad promised. I accepted the water but refused to take the pill. "Please? It won't hurt you," my mother assured, rubbing circles on the back on my hand. I took the pill and popped it into my mouth, downing the glass of water. The last thing I remember was my parents' worried faces before I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

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The next day I was afraid to go back into my bedroom. My dad swore he took care of all the spiders but I wasn't sure if I believed him. It became apparent to me that he had drugged me last night so I would sleep. I wasn't sure who to trust any more. My mother told me I had to get dressed to go see the doctor. I didn't know what for. I wasn't sick or anything like that. I closed my eyes and entered my room. So far there weren't any spiders. I grabbed the first outfit in my drawer and high tailed it out of there before they could come back and got ready in the bathroom.  
I was a mess. My auburn hair was frizzy and tangled with the short layers sticking up in weird angles. My face was stained with last night's tears; my eyes were blood shot and my cheeks puffy. I didn't look well. Maybe that was why they were taking me to the doctor. I pulled on my loose jeans and a blue and purple plaid shirt. I tried to cover my eyes with sunglasses and my cheeks with light make-up but I still looked like I had crawled out of a hole. Either way my parents were expecting me so I went back down stairs and let them drive me to the doctor.

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I sat on the crinkly paper in the doctor's office, cringing at the loud sound it made when I sifted my weight. My parents were having a full on discussion with the doctor who kept shooting me weird glances. They kept their voices to a whisper so I could only make out a few words like "night", and "screaming", and "spiders". The doctor finally looked to me and then back to my parents. They nodded. "Well, from what you're parents have told me and from the test we took, it appears that you have Schizophrenia," she concluded.  
I watched her mouth move but no words came out, none that I could hear anyways. "Schizophrenia?" My mind was crying out. This couldn't be happening. Those spiders I saw were real, they had to be. I had Schizophrenia? The big scary S word? Wasn't Schizophrenia a mental illness? I wasn't crazy was I? Great, now they were going to lock me up in some padded room where I couldn't hurt myself or anyone else. Did they still do that? At the very least I was going to be put on medication. I let my head fall into my hands, tears soaking my jeans. I had Schizophrenia. What's worse? I was starting high school tomorrow.

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A/N: Please review, it would mean a lot to know how you like the idea of this story and if you would like for me to continue with it. Thank you


	2. First Glance

A/N: Thanks so much for the support so far:)

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Disclaimer: I don't own Jack Frost.

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I threw another shirt out of my drawer with a groan. Why was it that everything in my wardrobe, everything I had felt confident in before this morning was suddenly wrong? Though I wasn't what one would consider "obsessed with my appearance," I knew that I had to look put together if I had any hopes of fitting in at my new school.  
Alright, maybe I didn't have it as hard as the girls starting at a regular high school. This was the first year I was able to attend the art school I had been dreaming about going to for as long as I could remember. I know what you're probably thinking. People seem to think that art schools are only for hippies, gays and lesbians, and drug addicts. If you say that to my face, I might explode on you. This particular art school is one of the best in the state and has some of the top academic programs along with the art benefits. It has no sports and you only attend four classes a day. As soon as I heard about it I knew it was my place  
Maybe I was kidding myself trying to look perfect so I would fit in. Wasn't everybody just supposed to fall into a harmonious community at a school so small? Either way I kept looking until I found what I considered the best outfit I could put together that morning. I was adorned in my favorite super skinny jeans that were comfortable and cute at the same. I wore a dark blue sleeveless top that was belted above my hips, strappy brown gladiator sandals that I'd never worn before, and a necklace with charms dancing in the heart shaped glass.  
This morning I made sure my hair was straightened and the layers weren't so flippy. A while ago my hair reached the middle of my back, long and bright blonde. Now it hung a little below my shoulders with short layers and side swept bangs. I decided to dye it a bright auburn color that was more red than brown. I was tired of being referred to as a "dumb blonde" by my previous idiot classmates. I had kept a few miscellaneous blonde streaks however that no one really noticed. I leaned closer to the mirror and checked my eyes.  
My eyes were always a popular discussion topic. Nobody was entirely sure of their color because they changed so often. One day they will be a bright blue, the next, sultry gray. I have noticed they stay balanced between three colors; blue, gray and green. Green is my favorite eye color. I think it's both beautiful and unique and I always get happy when my eyes change to their light green color.  
I looked at my reflection and sighed. I'd been trying to avoid it for as long as possible, knowing it was inevitable. I reached over for the bottle sitting on my dresser and swallowed the correct amount of medication for the morning. We wouldn't want me to be hallucinated now would we? I tried not to think about what it meant to be Schizophrenic, knowing there wasn't much I could do about it. Yet I couldn't help but wonder how my life would be different from now on. I had no idea what was real and what wasn't anymore. Call me paranoid but after the episode with the spiders, I was entirely aware that anything could happen.  
I heard a car horn downstairs and walked out of the pile of clothes my feet were buried in. I grabbed my multi-colored back pack and met my mom in the car. I stared bleakly out the window as she drove out to my new school. "Are you nervous?" She questioned me. "Yes," I responded, not trusting my emotions. I felt her eyes on the back of my head. "It's going to be okay you know?" She assured. I didn't believe her. "Oh yeah sure. I'm sure nobody will deem me crazy when they see me talking to the wall like it's an actual person," I spat bitterly. "Kennet, it's not that bad," my mom tried. "Yet," I snapped back. I knew she was shaking her head without looking at her. That was the end of our early morning discussion.  
Before I knew it, we were pulling in to the busy parking lot of my school. I had been here for orientation and registration but I had never seen it so busy. All around me kids mingled with one another, catching up on old times and reliving summer experiences. I noticed that everyone was wearing short-shorts and rapidly grew self-conscious of my jeans. I consulted my schedule and forced myself to remember where I was going. Social Studies, room eleven. I kissed my mother on the cheek and stepped out of the car in what I hoped was a graceful display before walking into the building and scrambling to find my first class.  
It turned out the hallways weren't as complicated as I thought they would be and I was able to find room eleven relatively easily. There was a sitting chart displayed on the overhead and I crowded around the others pooling in the classroom to find my seat. I was sanctioned in the middle section directly next to the wall on my right side. I was sitting next to someone named Kyler Evans who hadn't shown up yet. I bit my lip wondering if the person sitting next to me was going to be friendly or not. I wasn't even sure if they were a boy or a girl. Kyler could be a name for either gender. I should know. My name was Kennet after all.  
Finally after what seemed like forever, a tall boy with straight brown hair took the seat next to me. He shot me a smile and I nearly melted on the spot. He was probably the most beautiful male I had ever laid eyes upon. His dark hair fell lightly into his eyes which appeared to be a blue or a deep green color. I hoped for the green. His teeth were perfectly straight and pearly white. They lit up those mysterious eyes when he smiled. He had an adorable spray of freckles across his chiseled nose that I loved. For a moment I was almost positive he was an illusion generated from my mind, but I decided I wouldn't be able to smell an illusion's body spray so vividly. It was going to be difficult paying attention in class when sitting next to someone like him.  
I silently huffed at myself, disappointed in my instant infatuation. Judging by his muscular build he was probably a football player and therefore a jock. There were two problems with that assumption. A) Jocks are typically big sweaty jerks where I come from. B) If he is a jock I can pretty much kiss any hopes of, well, kissing him goodbye. He was too good for me. Just then he shuffled an object under his chair and I looked down curiously. He was moving a case of some sort. It looked like it belonged to a musical instrument of some sort. Maybe there was hope. Kyler saw me staring and blushed. I felt my own cheeks redden and looked forward towards the teacher that just walked in.  
Mr. Jacobs was a short and stout little man with a balding head and wire rimmed, square glasses perched on his hawk-like nose. He calmly started calling attendance, successfully earning most of the class's attention. "Kennet Hollands," he called halfway through. I called back, "here!" and waited for the snickering that usual followed when people saw I was a girl. For once, it never came. After he finished attendance, he announced in a strong voice that he needed to do a quick bit of paper work and we should use this opportunity to chat with our neighbors.  
In no way did I expect Kyler to talk to me, and considering my only other companion was the wall beside me, I slunk lower in my chair and tried not to think about the meds I took this morning. "Kennet, that's an interesting name," a soothing voice commented. I shot up in surprise, meeting the decidedly green eyes of Kyler Evans. I felt my cheeks burn with unexpected embarrassment. I recovered quickly. "So's Kyler," I replied in a semi-interested tone. Truthfully I was shocked I was able to say anything to his face. "I guess," he agreed. I shrugged. "So do you have a nickname by chance?" He asked. I looked at him skeptically. What did he not like my name? "No. Why?" I responded carefully. He smiled somewhat shyly. "No reason, I just thought it might be kind of fun to call you Kenni," he confessed. I considered his nickname. I had never thought to go by Kenni before, but it did have a nice ring to it. I smiled sweetly. "Sure, you can call me that if I can call you Ky," I negotiated. He smiled and laughed. "Deal."  
Mr. Jacob's took that moment to return from his paperwork, cutting our conversation short. I couldn't help but feel proud of myself. Not only had I talked to someone, it just so happened that that someone was the hottest person I've ever seen. As an added plus, I even earned a new nickname. Mr. Jacobs passed out a questionnaire that we were required to do in silence. I kept looking at Ky in my peripheral vision, making sure he was actually there and not some Schizophrenia induced hallucination. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted something white.  
Discreetly, I turned around in my chair and laid eyes on a strange boy I hadn't noticed before. He had shockingly white hair and cryptic blue eyes that I somehow felt like they could see through me. He had his feet kicked up on an empty desk in the back of the room and was mumbling things under his breath. There wasn't a piece of paper in front of him or even a backpack beside him. I couldn't figure out how this boy was able to so easily deceive the teacher. It just didn't did seem right. I shot him a pointed look and he met my eyes, face crinkling with curiosity. It was as if he wanted to be discovered but at the same was afraid to be. Warning bells went off in my head, telling me to stay away from him. If only he would return the favor.


	3. Who Is She?

A/N: All of the stereotypes used in this chapter are exactly that, stereo types. I am in no way generalizing the people in this world. Thank you for all the wonderful reviews:)

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Disclaimer: I do not own Jack Frost

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Jack's perspective:

I filed into the classroom after the bell rang, looking for an empty  
seat. Luckily there was one the very back, away from everyone else. I climbed  
onto the top, perching on the tips of my bare toes, surveying this year's  
bunch. They were all your standard fourteen and fifteen year olds, not very  
interesting to most people but they spiked my interest.

There wasn't a definitive way to explain it but when I was in the  
presence of others my own age (well my body's age) I felt like I belonged. As  
an added perk I found it entertaining to watch how they all changed over the  
year. I'd done it before with every class before this one, watching as the  
trends changed with the years and keeping up to date with all that was current.  
It was even easy to get an inside year on all of the gossip occurring around  
the school. Sometimes I'd guess what each kid would turn out to be as the year  
progressed.

My eyes wandered to a large stocky boy with fiery red hair and  
hazel eyes. He kept his face in a mask of rage and hate. Either he was going to  
be the next pro wrestler or this year's male bully. I looked to another boy  
with short dark hair cut close to the scalp. He had rectangle shaped, black  
glasses and a green shirt on. He could easily pass as a nerd but for some reason  
that didn't fit his narrow and unimpressed face. I decided he was the preppy  
boy of the group. 'This is fun,' I thought to myself.

I searched the other student's faces. There was a very curvy girl  
with dark hair and blonde highlights smacking her gum in the front row. She was  
wearing a skirt that exposed way to much of her tanned thighs and six-inch stilettos.  
Her face was caked in make-up that looked like it belonged in the nineteen  
eighties. She was trying way too hard for the precious popularity. I deemed her  
as the want to-be-popular girl. Another girl with short, mousy hair and a  
pointed nose tried to fade into a corner, unnoticed. I knew she could either be  
the hippy girl or the female nerd. I'd have to keep tabs on her.

Another blonde bombshell sat at the back of the room. She had  
perfect, golden-brown skin and high, slanted cheekbones. She was wearing a  
pink, fitted ruffle top and a black frilly skirt. Her eyes were a generic and  
dull brown color as if they couldn't be lit by any excitement. 'Ah, the actual  
popular girl,' I recognized. Most boys would be all over that body but I  
wouldn't touch her with a ten foot pole. I knew what those girls were capable  
of.

I skimmed over a few more uninteresting stereo types. There was the  
blond dumb jock that didn't belong in a school like this. There was the boy  
with spiky hair and flexible fingers, easily the gamer. There was one boy with  
red, glazed over eyes attempting to pay attention to what the teacher was  
saying. Finally there was one boy I couldn't put my finger on. He had dark,  
somewhat shaggy hair and bright eyes. He had a face that could belong to a star  
quarterback but next to him was the case to a musical instrument. He didn't  
give off the all-star arrogance but yet he didn't seem like the band geek type.  
Hmm, interesting.

The teacher started talking and passed out a questionnaire to his  
waiting students and told them to fill it out in total silence. I hovered back  
over to my seat in the very back of the room, settling into the uncomfortable  
plastic and propping my feet on the table. I stared at the incredulous teacher  
who was now talking about his conceded classroom expectations. "Who do you  
think you are? The president?" I mumbled under my breath.

At that moment a girl I hadn't noticed before turned to face me.  
She had a very pretty face with high cheekbones much less severe than the  
popular girl's. Her lips were full and a darker pink color. Freckles dotted  
around her nose in a random array of gold specks. Her red hair fell slightly below  
her shoulders, strands of blonde catching in the light. Her eyes were a forest  
green color with gray swirls dancing around the edge of the iris. She was  
easily the prettiest girl here but she didn't make a big deal about it. I  
couldn't decide whether or not to dismiss her as rocker chick or secretly  
smart. Maybe she was both. I wished I knew what her name was.

She shot a pointed look in my general direction and I looked  
around my area. I was the only back here. Her eyelids lowered and she shook her  
head, turning back to the front of the classroom. Wait a second. Did she... see  
me? No, she couldn't have. Nobody could see me. Was it possible though, that  
this one girl was a strange exception? She had looked at my, shook her head at  
me. Was she looking at the posters pasted behind me or just letting out a few  
first day jitters? No, it didn't feel like that was what happened. Still, it  
didn't make sense. She couldn't really see me, who was I kidding? Either way, I  
made a bold decision right then and there. I would keep my eyes on her at no  
matter what cost. She was different, I could feel it. Very very different...


	4. Up Close and Personal

Thanks for all the reviews:) Disclaimer: I do not own Jack Frost

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The rest of the day passed by in a steady blur. I realized I only had one other class with Ky and we sat nowhere near each other. Instead I sat next to a girl wearing a tight pink ruffle top and a frilly black shirt. Easily she was the cheerleader at her last school. I didn't understand why people like that came to a school like this one. It wasn't like there was a football team to cheer on. What was the point? Well I guess everyone had their reasons, even if they choose to keep them buried.

Teachers handed out too many papers to count and eventually all the words on the page turned to dancing skeletons that were doing the Macarena. Although I was deeply concerned with this, I couldn't help but laugh out loud, earning a cross gaze from my science teacher. It was at this point I asked to use the restroom so I could collect myself and make the skeletons/words stop dancing. As I was walking down the long hallway, I passed by one of the many practice rooms in the music hall and heard a vague and muted trumpet solo. I peered through the darkened glass and saw Ky standing there, holding up a bronze trumpet. "So he plays the trumpet," I muttered under my breath, somewhat intrigued. I resisted the urge to sink to the bottom of the door and press my ear against it to hear more of his sweet music. Instead I finished my trip to the restroom.

During the course of the day, I also noticed that the boy with the shockingly white hair was in every single one of my classes. He was always located in the back of the room. He never carried a back pack or accepted a teacher's handouts. He always sat on top of the desk with his toes curling over the front, or in the chair with his feet propped up. I knew this was an art school but I didn't realize you were allowed to pull stunts off like that. It also became apparent that he carried an old, worn shepherd's cane around with him wherever he went. He usually propped it against him on the side of desk or held it firmly in his hand. Once again, strange behavior.

I desperately tried to find out what his name was. I watched him inconspicuously during the attendance sessions, waiting for him to say "here!" when his name was called, but he never did. The teachers never addressed him in any way, shape, or form, even when he was spitting obnoxious comments in their direction. Was he some special student that had a magic charm that kept him from getting in trouble? Doubtful in the least. Maybe he had Schizophrenia like me but was more open about it. Maybe the things he was seeing were much worse than dancing skeletons and spiders. I shivered at the idea of the spiders. I take it back, the spiders were really bad. Maybe he was seeing spiders to. I didn't know, I didn't judge.

My paranoia was starting to hit me harder as I walked to my next class. I felt like everyone was staring directly at me. I didn't think they were staring at my clothes and judging my fashion sense, or looking at the way I cut my hair, no. It was as if every prying eye could see through me, I was transparent. They could see what was going on in my mind. They knew I was different, saw things they were blessed not to see. They knew I would have to take pills every day for the rest of my life. They knew that people might be afraid if they knew. Were they afraid? Is that why no one else acknowledged my icy stares back? Did they care that they were hurting me with their unfair judgments? These people didn't even know who I was for crying out loud. I didn't judge them for their differences, why should they judge me for mine? I was just another normal teenager trying to fit in, well as normal as a teenager could be with Schizophrenia, but that wasn't their problem.

I walked into my last class of the day thoroughly disappointed in myself. Nobody was staring at me here. I faded into the woodwork like I was supposed to. No prying eyes sizing me up at every turn, just the kids I'd spent most of my classes with that day. I checked the seating chart and tried to make sense of what chair was mine. We were in my theater class and the seats were in a confusing order that made no sense what so ever. My eyebrows shot up in confusion. I felt a light tap on my shoulder and turned around swiftly. There, standing behind me was a girl. She had long red hair and warm amber eyes. I recognized her from one of my other classes but I couldn't remember which one. I relaxed my features and mentally prepped myself for any biting insult she was going to throw out. Instead, she did something unexpected.

"Ah hi, I'm Sylvia. You're Kennet right?" she asked, extending a delicate hand towards me. That seemed a bit formal but I was glad someone was talking to me. I smiled. "Call me Kenni," I said, shaking her outstretched hand. A look of relief passed over her amber eyes. "You and I sit next to each other in this class but I can seem to find our seat," she said, gesturing to the confusing seating chart. I laughed a high laugh. "Yeah I don't have any clue either. Who else are we next to?" I asked. She peered at the chart. "Shanna Damon and Dakota Francis." I crinkled my nose at the mention of Dakota Francis. She was the cheerleader type girl I had sat next to earlier. I spotted Shanna's wild curly hair out of the corner of my eye and saw where she was sitting. "I think we're over there then." I pointed to the top row and we made it to our seats just before the bell rang.

The theater class was like all over the other classes. The teacher handed out a syllabus and went into a deep conversation about what he expected from us this year. He made it clear that he didn't want any wall flowers or shy people of any kind. According to him, everyone was safe to express themselves here. I rolled my eyes, knowing it was a bold-faced lie. As the final bell rang I began collecting my stuff and I felt another light tap on my shoulder. Sylvia was holding a piece of paper out to me. I took it without a second thought. "It's my cell phone number," she explained. "Text me if you want someone to talk to," she added. I smiled and nodded my head in agreement. I watched her bouncy blonde hair exit the dark classroom. 'I think I just made me first friend,' I thought to myself, leaving shortly after.

I stepped into the busy hallway, immediately getting shoved around by over-sized back packs. I pushed myself towards the staircase that would let me out. There, I saw the same boy up close and personal. His eyes had more dimensions then I would have thought, darker and lighter blues overlapping the main color of his iris. Silver freckles decorated his nose and high cheekbones. He was slightly taller than me which is saying a lot because I'm tall for a girl. Though I couldn't understand why he would want to dye his hair white of all colors, I couldn't deny that he was attractive. He stared at me intensely with those cryptic eyes and proceeded to walk down the hall in utter silence. Something inside of me went off and I ran after him, trying to catch up with his fast pace. However, when I got to the bottom of the stairs, he was gone.


	5. She Can See Me!

A/N: I am so sorry that I haven't posted in such a long time. There has been a lot going on in my life for the past few weeks and I literally could not find the time. I also apologize that this chapter is so short. The next one I write will be longer and more interesting. Sorry for the delay!

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Disclaimer: I do not own Jack Frost

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Ravishing didn't even begin to describe the beauty Kennet Hollands possessed. It was almost as she had casted some dark form of magic over me. She was riveting. I followed her around virtually the entire day, tracking her moves. Every time I saw her, I found myself staring at another mark of beauty. Her lips were perfectly full and pink, her cheeks reddened at any hint of embarrassment or fluster, her wings looked like they should have wings protruding from their blades. She was like a snowflake.  
Part of me still found myself intrigued by the vibes she gave off. Mysterious wouldn't cut it. She held her head high and made eye contact with anyone looking. However, when her gaze broke away her cheeks would turn a slightly pinker shade. I noticed she had a habit of blowing her bangs away from her eyes instead of pushing them back with her fingers. Her eyes shimmered in what I could only describe as longing. I watched them turn a bit bluer as she listened to various teachers. Her eyes were so strange, yet so... magnetic.  
In one of her classes, the teacher sat her next to the popular girl I noted earlier. "Good," I mumbled under my breath. "Maybe the other boys will see she is actually worth staring at." I couldn't say I was more wrong. It was almost as if she were intentionally attempting to fade into the background. One word came to mind when I watched her in social settings, chameleon.  
She was extremely cautious of her surroundings at the same time. Her eyes constantly flickered over ever one of her surroundings, watching as if something were to come out of the wall or ceiling at any minute. She frequently brushed her skin vigorously, looking like she was trying to push something away from her. I still wondered if, by some preposterous twist of fate, she could see me. It was completely unreasonable and far-fetched, except for the fact that she exuded such an unnatural vibe. Eyes that pretty could be used for more than just a window into her sole.  
It annoyed me that the other boys in her class paid her no attention. However, I felt like if they did I would still be just as angry. This complex portrayal of emotions confused me. I hadn't felt so conflicted over anyone before. Why was I so lost? Normally I wouldn't get attached to someone in the real world but Kenni was different.  
Then it happened. Someone noticed her that wasn't me. She was a girl, friendly faced and bright eyed. I hadn't noticed her this morning, maybe because they weren't in the same first class. She seemed sweet and harmless, a good contender for a best friend, though she radiated shy vibes. Kenni showed a liking for the small girl and they sat together in their theater class.  
The final bell rang and havoc broke loose in the crowded hallways. I lifted myself over the crowd and up by the staircase where things were less boisterous and loud. She walked up, determination in her eyes. She came up so close to me, I could see everything about her. The hidden gray flecks in her eyes, the gold shimmer of the freckles dotting her nose and cheeks, the line of her cheekbones, the pale pinks that added dimension to her skin, and the way a few of her teeth overlapped. I could smell the flower perfume of her skin that instantly overcame my senses. She looked as if she were about to say something, words poised on her tongue, but I took off down the staircase before she could.  
I'm not sure why I ran. All I know is that I did. Maybe it was some deeply rooted instinct buried deep in my mind from my days of being human. I heard footsteps running after me and caught a glimpse of auburn hair. Too late, I was already down the stairs, running into a hallway. I ducked behind a vending machine, watching her survey the area. She let out a small huff of air and walked out the door to the parking lot. This encounter could only mean one thing.  
"She can see me," I yipped in delight, turning somersaults in the air. "She can actually see me!" Snow glittered from the end of my Shepherd's cane, glistening in the air. I let out another wild whoop. Someone could actually see me, know I was there. I wasn't a fairy tale to her, I was a real person. Now all I had to do was get her talking.


	6. The Dream

A/N: Once again I'm sorry the last chapter was so short. Here's the next chapter. Enjoy and review:)

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Disclaimer: I still don't own Jack Frost. Sorry for the disappointment folks:)

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'Who is he?' I asked myself. Nothing he did made any sense. How was it possible he escaped everyone else's radar? Why did his actions of blatant disobedience go unnoticed? Why didn't he carry school supplies? Did he even register what the teacher was saying in class? Most importantly, why did he run?  
I was at the point of repeatedly banging my head against the dashboard in front of me for answers. Sadly my mother would not hide her concern at such a display. I busied myself by thinking of Ky. Those shimmering green eyes that twinkled with friendly mischief and a dazzling smile to match. Not to mention that he could play the trumpet exceptionally well... "Did you have a good first day sweetie?" My mother asked; bring me out of my thoughts. "Yeah, it was better than I thought it would be," I replied honestly. I met my mother's kind eyes.  
I still wasn't sure if I could trust her. I mean, she drugged me without telling me and dragged me to the doctor the next day for a diagnosis of a problem I didn't even know I had. Maybe I wouldn't be so paranoid if I didn't know I had Schizophrenia, if I didn't have to take the pills every day to subdue the hallucinations I'd apparently been seeing my entire life. Now that they mentioned it, there were quite a few things out of place in my childhood memories. A cat with eyes that changed colors. A bird as tall as I am now. Flowers that danced. Before I'd thought they were evidence from a child's over active imagination. Now it occurred to me they might have been another example of my mental illness.  
"That's wonderful! How are your teachers?" She questioned. I shrugged. "The same as always. I don't think they're going to turn out to be anything special." She was used to answers such as these. I was an especially candid person when I wanted to be. I told it like it was which earned me both praise and criticism. I learned quickly that most teachers and adults were hypocrites. They tell you to always tell the truth, honesty is the best policy. Turns out as soon as you become that honest person they tell you to be, they suddenly want you to "extend the truth." Something about sparing other people's feelings. Now I'm only brutally straightforward and direct when I want to be. Otherwise I keep it to myself.  
"Well I suppose it was foolish for me to think that since the school's test scores were so high, the teachers would be better than mediocre," my mother reminisced. "Maybe they'll surprise me," I offered. "Hopefully. Did you meet some nice people?" She knew I'd never been especially good at making friends and talking to people. Something about frequent mood swings and the antisocial vibes I put off. I was fine with it though. I work and think better alone. This time though, I did have something to tell her.  
"Yes actually. I made friends with a sweet girl named Sylvia and talked to a boy name Kyler," I stated. "Kennet that's great! I'm so proud of you," she exclaimed, a mask of delight on her face. "Thanks mom," I muttered. She was trying so hard for me. She wanted to make this easier but she just didn't understand. I couldn't block her out the way I wanted to; I knew that for a fact. The less I helped guide her through my problems the more confused and angered she'd be. It wasn't worth losing my mother, even if I only wanted to be alone.  
She looked as if she wanted to say something but couldn't find the words. "Yes?" I asked softly. "Did you... see anything today?" She questioned softly. I thought back to the events of the day. There were the dancing skeletons of course, but they weren't scary or harmful. There was that brief interval of time when I was positive everyone was staring at me even though they weren't. Then of course there was the strange boy with the white hair who I was beginning to think was an illusion himself. "Not really," I said, watching her face. "What do you mean "'not really?'" She asked, raising an eyebrow. I took a deep breath. "I mean no, I didn't see anything. I was afraid I was going to, but I didn't. I guess the medication is working," I choked out. Her expression relaxed and I knew she believed me. Sometimes teachers are right. It's better to protect someone else than to say what's really on your mind.  
"Hey mom, I'm sorry I was so snippy with you this morning. I wasn't trying to be. I was just under a lot of stress," I apologized. She turned her kind eyes to face me and smiled. "Don't worry about it hon, I understand. You are dealing with a lot right now and everything is so confusing. Of course you're going to react differently. Just try to rein it in okay?" She accepted my apology wholeheartedly and I felt so much better. "Sure, I'll try," I agreed. She patted my hand lovingly.  
I watched as she turned the direction away from our house and my eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "Where are we going?" I asked skeptically. My mother shot me a wink and mysteriously replied, "you'll see." I couldn't help but smile as she drove into the parking lot of my favorite ice cream place. "You know you are the best mother ever right?" I asked my tone light. She laughed. "I thought we'd do something fun to celebrate your first day as high school student," she bubbled. I wrapped my arms around her and we walked in.  
I ordered a large helping of my favorite ice cream ever. Cherry Vanilla with extra cherries and macadamia nuts. I'd accidently figured out how incredible the combination tasted when I ordered the cherry vanilla ice cream and said macadamia nuts which I had never tried before instead of almonds and was surprised at how much better it tasted. Ever since it's sort of been my signature ice cream.  
After dinner I went up to my room with the same glitter of reluctance I had the last time. 'There are no spiders,' I reminded myself, but the image of the broken nest filled my memories and I shivered. I took a deep breath and opened the door, squinting in the fading sunlight. There weren't any spiders. Just my cat lying on the top level of my bunk bed. I let out a sigh of relief and flicked the light on, sinking into the familiar atmosphere.  
I walked over and turned my iPod on shuffle, knowing I'd be comfortable with whatever song came on. I just naturally loved music. The song "Iris" by the Goo Goo Dolls came on and I cranked the volume high. "And I don't want the World to see me, 'cause I don't think that they'd understand, when everything's made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am," I sang at the top of my lungs. I was so loud I almost didn't hear my phone buzzing on my dresser. I turned the music down and reached for the phone. I didn't recognize the number but I answered anyway.  
"Hello?" I asked. "Hey, is this Kenni?" A familiar voice asked. I smiled at the use of my new nickname. "Yes it is, hello Sylvia," I replied pleasantly. I picked up the relief in her tone. "I hope you don't mind that I called you, but I'm going to the ice rink this weekend and was wondering if you wanted to come with me," she questioned nervously. I smiled even though she couldn't see it. "Well, I've never been ice skating but I've always wanted to learn. Count me in," I exclaimed. She let out a small "yay!" and told me she would text me the details. I thanked her for the invite and hung up, cranking the music loud again. The song, "I've Seen All Good People; Your Move" by Yes was on.  
I crawled under my bed and pulled out four long blankets and retrieved the tin of thumb tacks on the top of my dresser. I climbed the ladder to my top bunk and arranged the blankets around the side of my bed, tacking them into place. I'd made the blanket cave before to insulate heat in the winter. Now, I was just trying to block all of the night terrors out. I decided now was a good time to sleep and crawled under the covers into my special dream land.

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"Come on Kenni," a voice in the distance called. I felt my feet carry me through a field of purple flowers, the scent filling my nostrils and making me feel alive. I high laugh escaped my throat as a butterfly landed on my shoulder, light, and delicate, and beautiful. I sat on an aspen log and stared at the beauty of the meadow I was sitting in. White and orange peeked out of the sea of delicate purple flowers that I now identified as Irises.  
I felt like sliding into the purple wonderland, rolling in the flowers. More butterflies danced around me in a flurry of bright colored wings. I became aware of a distant spring, gurgling fresh water into the pond below. I ran in that direction, passing trees with gorgeous red and yellow leaves. _Autumn. _The word was fresh on my tongue, as fresh as the pure air.  
I reached the spring and watched someone emerge from the pure, crystal water. "It's about time you joined me," Ky laughed, shaking his dark, wet hair from his eyes. They shimmered with the nature around us. As green as the pine needles on the trees above us. "I guess I didn't know what I was missing, wasting all that time in the meadow," I answered, tucking an auburn strand behind my ear. "I wouldn't call it time wasted. It's beautiful isn't it?" He asked. I nodded, remembering the irises and butterflies. "Almost as beautiful as you," he exclaimed, smiling brightly. I felt myself blush the same color as the leaves on some of the trees. "Will you come help me out of the water?" He asked, holding a hand out and swimming to the water's edge. I moved closer and gripped his hand. It was warm and soft closing around my fingers perfectly. I was about to pull him up and out when he pulled back, successfully sending me into the water with him.  
I laughed brightly and splashed his face playfully and he wrapped his arms around my waste. Butterflies similar to those in the meadow fluttered around my stomach. His touch burned with passion. Ky cupped my jaw and lifted my eyes to his. "So pretty and colorful, like a kaleidoscope," he noted, staring deeply. I blushed again and he brushed my cheek with his thumb. "You have beautiful eyes," I gushed. He smiled, lighting them up further. "They don't even hold a candle to yours," he remarked. Then, it was like a scene from a movie. He moved his face closer to mine, lips puckered slightly. I closed my eyes, my breath catching in my throat. Our lips collided, heat coursed through my veins.  
Suddenly, it all grew cold. I still felt Ky's lips against mine, but they had lost all warmth. I rubbed my bare arms, the spring water no longer warm. I opened my eyes with a start and pulled my lips away. I was in the same forest with the meadow behind me, but everything was coated in a fresh layer of snow, sparkling in the mid-day light. Instead of being submerged in the pond water, I was standing on it, balanced on a layer of ice. And instead of staring into Ky's friendly and warm green eyes, I was staring at the cryptic blue pair of the boy with the white hair.

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I awoke with a start. I had kicked of all the blankets in my sleep and a chilling breeze blew over me. I was dripping in cold sweat, my heart beating out of my chest. I rubbed my eyes, and moved one of the blankets shielding my bed. Maybe it was an illusion or maybe an after effect of my dream, but I was almost positive I saw a flicker of white hair disappear into the darkness.


End file.
